Guru Geethaya by Chingiz Aitmatov (Translator – Dadigama V. Rodrigo) Download the Attachment (Pahalin Thiyen Link eka Click karala File. Author, Dadigama V Rodrigu. ISBN, Publisher, SAMEERA PUBLICATIONS. Pages, Size, x x cm. Weight, Our Price, Rs. HomeĀ» Fiction, Novels, Sinhala Book, Sinhala Fiction, Sinhala Novels, Sinhala Translation NovelsĀ» Guru Geethaya by Chinghiz Aitmatov.

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The Blue and Brown by Ludwig Wittgenstein. Kartanbai was coughing all the time, tossing and turning and muttering prayers. It would have been a matter of half an ghru at most for our villagers to get together and build a bridge for their children; two or three trees thrown across the stream would have done the job. Lenin was geerhaya a rather baggy army jacket, his face looked pinched and he had a longish beard.

I met her when I too, became a townsman. Look at the bundle he’s lugging, he’s no better than a bey’s servant women. Kartanbai’s confidence that all was well with Duishen did not put my mind at rest.

The birds would take wing and wheel above our heads with loud cries. Altynai alone appeared disturbed and ill at ease, and took no more than a sip of her wine. The best thing to do, I finally decided, was to relate the story as if told by Altynai herself.

His house was on the other side of the river. To make things worse, wolves became a menace. She was lost in thought, and never said a word all the way to the station. By using this site, you agree to the Terms of Use and Privacy Policy. However, the parting scene of the teacher and the student at the train station was the best of all. Thinking of it now I honestly marvel at him: He rubbed my blue, numb legs, massaged my frozen hands and breathed on them. Perhaps it was sheer stubbornness, or an uncontrollable urge to rebel, having had all my impulses and desires crushed since infancy with cruel cuffs and scolding; an urge to do something good for this man, a total stranger really, for his smile which warmed my heart, for trusting me if only a little, for saying those few kind words.

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No, a wolf cub will never make a house dog!


I wanted to ask why she was doing it, but I did not dare. How I longed to see him coming down that road, to see his smile that warmed the heart, and hear his words that brought enlightenment! So I would just stand, gulping down my bitter tears. I’ll go there soon, I’m really homesick. She was a mean, cruel woman.

And again my heart felt warmed. Years later, I remember someone mentioning that Duishen was now the village postman. All right, who’s against the laws of the Soviet Government? A young village lad came in and handed the master of the house a batch of telegrams. Never before had I stayed out so late alone.

But, gewthaya course, they should have stopped to consider why this young fellow, who was as good as they were in every way, took the trouble to teach their children, doing it with such amazing staunchness, such extraordinary persistence, undaunted by difficulties, hardships, sneers and insults. Our house was the end one. Nineteen Eighty-Four, sometimes published asis a dystopian novel by George Orwell published in Altynai wrote to say that she was going to stay in Moscow longer than planned and then went on: So don’t you try getting us all mixed up!

I treasured the notebook he had given me, and I practiced my letters on the ground with the tip of the sickle, on the mud walls with a bit of charcoal, on the snow and in the dust with a twig. In those days my idea of a Komsomol member was a young man, quick to act and speak, a wonderful worker and the bravest djigit in the village, who’d stand up at a meeting and speak his mind, or write to the newspaper about loafers and thieves.


Ah I have to do now egethaya get in a supply of fuel for the winter, but that’ll be easy, there’s geeethaya of thistles growing all around. All I want is to go up that hill and stand under the trees for a long, long time, listening to the murmur of their leaves.

I wasn’t crying because my aunt had beaten furu, I was used to that but because I knew teethaya would never let me go to school.

Guru Geethaya by Chinghiz Aitmatov | Free Ebook

His head hung low, he could hardly drag his feet. The sun seemed to know why Geeghaya was so happy. There were shouts of approval. I reached home out of breath, dripping with sweat and covered with dust.

Her aging face looked pensive and sad. There was both amazement and sarcasm in his expression.

The young lad went out to call Duishen. There were many incidents in the book which struck a chord in my heart. A cloud of vapor tore into the room. Gruu was already growing dark and I did not know if Duishen was back or not.

And I, huddling in his overcoat, was thinking: In those days it was catch a horse by the mane and put your foot in the stirrup, and then you were your own boss. Winter was drawing close. Rather, he nove even suspected that such things existed. Go home at once! Then school is burned down and is rebuilt using centuries old trees, being a pride to the local population.

I waited for him; all my thoughts were of him–a solitary figure braving the windswept snowy steppe. His action of kindness and the ability to hope and work for a better future is appreciative.